Can You Guess My Name?
by Perdyta
Summary: Betel Geuse just knows he's gonna go crazy when is ex-almost-wife shows up in the Neitherworld. Betel/Lyds eventually.
1. She Drives Me Crazy

If Betel wasn't crazy as shit before he sure was going to gonna loose it by the time Juno decided he had been waiting long enough. He must have been in there for years and dammit he needed to get out and get back to work and...

Well, he needed to get laid too dammit!

_I wish someone would destroy this hell hole. Who wants to die just to wait some more?_ Betel thought bitterly and crossed his arms.

To be perfectly honest, he had gone over these sort of thoughts a hundred times before but as time went on he just got angrier and the more he got angry the more likely he was to forgot all about his personal rantings.

The only thing that kept him from going bonkers after reaching his boiling point was the nice looking distraction that had just walked up to the front desk. And considering the way Betel Geuse's tantrums went when he had to use the word 'bonkers' to describe them... well let's just say the Miss Argentina Receptionist should be damn grateful for that tasty lady she was talking to.

But not as grateful as Betel was planning to be.

The woman in question was all sorts of yum from behind, he could only hope she had a face to match and if not he could get over that soon enough. She was wearing a black mini dress that looked _fantastic_ from behind over fishnet stalkings paired with a pair of thigh high boots. It was all Betel could do to not shout for the room to clear out now so he could put his best moves on her.

Standing up, Betel smoothed his hair back and checked his breath. Ahh the stench of rotten cockroaches. _Poifect._

So what if his last hundred times of putting the moves on a lady in this very room hadn't worked. He had a good feeling about this one.

Clearing his throat he reached forward to tap on her shoulder as suavely as was possible but before he touched her she turned around and looked up at him with a pair of big ole surprised brown eyes.

Betel laughed, hardly believing his luck. "So look who finally got in."

Lydia Deetz was quick to wipe that look of shock off her face and glare at him instead.

Maybe he wouldn't be getting lucky then. Fine, there was always the next good looking thing who would appreciate a suave tap on the shoulder.

When Lydia tried walking past him, Betel was quick to jump back in front of her. "No way am I lettin' you go that easy, babes. I mean, you know when you leave I'll just get bored as balls again!" _Don't make me beg, I don't want to go bonkers anymore!_

"Let me go Betel Geuse."

"Ah hah! that's once. Guess you want me to come with you then" Betel snickered. "'Sides, I'm not holdin' on to you or anything so just go chill your twat doll face."

Lydia rolled her eyes at him before she moved past him again and accidentally brushed against him. That was when he thought to ask her about the crazy outfit and the story behind that.

"You become a stripper since our wedding?" Betel asked, deciding it couldn't hurt to guess to get the conversation going. Strippers were his favorite kind of woman. Especially those single mom types... they always worked _so_ damn hard for his tip... Ah good times.

The only response he got was a bunch of obscene language thrown over her shoulder before she walked through the green mist.

Betel frowned.

_I was completely serious. Where does she get off just ignoring legitimate questions?_

* * *

The next time Betel saw Lydia he figured another couple of years had passed. Apparently her dog had died and she wanted to know about animals in the Afterlife and boy did that girl cry something fierce when she found out that sort of thing just didn't happen.

Betel was going to seize the opportunity to offer her a sympathy lay but as he stood up to walk towards the sobbing woman, the Miss Argentina Receptionist told him Juno wanted to see him.

Betel looked at her, his face completely expressionless as all he felt was defeat.

_They are all against me._

He had barely sat down across from Juno and she was already giving him the harshest lecture he ever heard.

"Do you know how much paper work I've had to do because of your irresponsibility?" She shouted, or tried to before she had a coughing fit.

Betel attempted to look like he gave a damn before shrugging, "I know I don't care..."

"Well guess what, Geuse, you're going on probation. Very strict probation! And I'm completely serious about this probation, got it Betel? So no gally-wagging about while you're supposed to be on probation!" She scolded while pointing a long bony finger at him.

"Are you saying I'm going on probation?" Betel asked, deciding to be a smart ass instead of dwelling on what the hell "gally-wagging" meant.

"Don't you try and get funny now. Just get to work signing these papers."

Betel made a noise of defeat when she slammed down the large pile in front of him.

"What're all these for!?" He asked, pretty damn sure he didn't break _that_ many rules.

"They're to ensure you never, _ever_ try to marry a mortal again. _Or_ an underage mortal at that." The tone Juno answered with made Betel wish he hadn't even asked.

"Alright." Betel grumbled, pulling the pile closer to him to start signing. "Don't know what signing ever ensured anyone anyway."

Juno pretended not to hear him and leaned back in her chair. She spent the rest of their meeting watching him sign papers and looking far too pleased with herself.

When Betel Geuse finally walked outside into the fresh-ish air of the Neitherworld, his hand was cramped up and looked morphed.

_Son of a bitch. Now I can't even finish what Lydia started all on my own._

Grumbling to himself, Betel walked home and began to think how nice it would be if someone just bombed the Waiting Room. Not like anyone would get hurt or anything.

* * *

Betel had been out buying groceries - well beer at least - the next time he spotted Lydia's ass and then he recognized the rest of her.

"Well _hello_." Grinning, Betel leaned against the display of grey oranges she was looking at.

Lydia rolled her eyes and made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat.

"Yeah these oranges don't look so great." Betel agreed.

Fixing him with a hard stare, Lydia shook her head before turning to walk away. She wasn't even going to say a damn thing to him.

That just wasn't fair at all.

"But I could easily get you a crate of real ones." He didn't know why he had offered that, except he knew it had been a long time since he'd been to the real world and it had been a horribly long time since Lydia had cursed at him.

That made her pause at least and Betel continued, "As many crates as you like."

Turning, Lydia walked towards him with her hands on his hips and he suddenly had the urge to say please as well.

"If you could get me a crate of real oranges I would appreciate it." Lydia said carefully and Betel realized she didn't want to owe him anything.

"How about we make a deal what with you being oh so appreciative and all."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lydia tilted her head. "Like what? And nothing stupid, I'm not marrying you or doing anything like that."

"Hey now don't you go underestimatin' me like that." Betel told her sternly to which she merely shrugged. Smirking, Betel looked her up and down and decided she probably wouldn't appreciate his suggestion of spending the night. Or week, whatever. "I get you a crate of the finest oranges you've ever seen... and you tell me the story behind that little get up of yours and why you're going and dying so young."

Lydia appeared to think about it for a moment and Betel could smell victory on the way. After all, with the high maintenece ones like Lyds you had to start out slow. Talk to em and shit. Then they pretty much tell you to get in their pants.

"You get me a crate and I'll tell you the story behind my outfit. You'll have to do something better than that for the other story."

Betel watched her go and frowned. She didn't look beat up like she was in some sort of crash. No cuts on her arms and her face looked normal so she couldn't have drowned or anything like that.

What was her issue anyway? It's not like he was touchy about his death... well he wasn't when he could remember it.

Remembering something, Betel shouted after her as an after thought, "Hey, I don't know how to get a hold of you brainiac!"


	2. You Are Relating To A Psychopath

By the time he found Lydia's place the oranges had all gone rotten, and she was quick to make a very snotty remark.

"You know what, Lyds this wasn't exactly easy so how about you shut your damn pie hole." Betel snapped at her and then wondered if he should take it back - after all you don't snap like that at potential booty call.

"Whatever Betel, I wanted oranges not a conversation with you. Leave me alone." Then she slammed her crooked door in his face and he heard her heels clicking against the floor as she walked away.

_Dammit._

Whatever, he would just get another crate. At least now he knew where she lived.

It just was hella hard getting to the mortal world these days and even harder getting the oranges back. He really had no idea why it was such a big deal to transport fruit.

Always the business man, or con man however you wanted to look at it, Betel had his connections and that always helped when fruit was involved. Still, it was another month before he got his hands on the crate of oranges but at least he knew how to get a hold of Lyds this time.

But as Betel sat on her door step grumbling to himself, he really hoped she hadn't moved on him.

He wasn't sure how long he had waited before Lydia arrived back or why he even bothered waiting as long as he did, but she had a less than satisfactory response to his delicious crate of oranges.

"Oh, finally got it right did you?"

Narrowing his eyes at her, Betel made a move to follow her inside but Lydia stopped him.

"I can just take the oranges from here, thank you."

"What? How about showing a little hospitality, babes. I mean after all the trouble I went through."

Grunting from the effort of holding the crate of oranges, Lydia walked away from the door and left him with easy access to walk into the tiny apartment. "Nice place you got here, looks like you've been doin' well since we split."

"Don't you have things to do? Like a job or something?" Lydia asked, attempting to be obvious with the fact she wanted him to leave.

"Nah, not a thing. I'm all yours" Betel said, taking a seat on her couch after snagging himself an orange much to her annoyance. He took a big ole bite out of it, skin and all before he added, "So now you can keep up your end of the deal. Even though I know full well how bad you are at keeping deals."

"Lucky me." Narrowing her eyes at Betel's crummy boots on her cracked coffee table, Lydia grabbed herself a tasty looking orange and sat down beside him. "Alright fine." She said, "I'll tell you why I'm dressed like this and then you leave."

"Nah, you gotta tell me why you're dressed like that _and_ how you died. That was the deal, babes."

"Was not you dirty liar!" Lydia exclaimed, before laughing at how badly he was lying.

Betel shrugged, it seemed worth a try. "Fine." _At least I got her to laugh, which might be a good sign._

Rolling her eyes, Lydia leaned back and set her much cleaner boots on her coffee table. Her knees brushed against his and Betel wondered if it was an accident or if she was really coming on to him.

_Maybe she's just shy about how badly she secretly wants me. That must be it._

"I was on a date."

Betel watched her peel her own orange and wondered if he was supposed to do that too before eating it. That outside stuff _was_ kind of tough but it tasted orange-ish. Lydia must have just been some sort of weirdo.

"You were wearing _that_ on a date?"

_That lucky bastard..._ Sure, in his day the ladies all had to look proper if you wanted to _court_ them and you had to get their father's permission and buy her flowers and marry her and _then_ you saw that much skin and more... but then you find out you don't really like her anyway.

Betel Geuse frowned, he hadn't thought of his Life before the Neitherworld in a long, long time. It was unusual for him and he had actually thought maybe he had forgotten about it. But then, that might not even be his memory, probably just something he made up.

"I just wanted in his pants." Lydia said without shame and shrugged.

When Betel Geuse didn't say anything, she smirked and turned to look at him better, "Don't you even tell me you're sitting over there all silent like and judging me."

"I just might be..."

"Well don't, I already got the lecture of a lifetime from Adam and Barbara."

"How about the lecture of an afterlife-time?" Betel asked. "I just got one a few months ago from Juno. Something about trying to marry mortal girls. Anyway, I'm sure she could spare a few minutes to judge you too."

The look Lydia gave him suggested she thought he was a loony before she snorted and shook her head, "You mean I wasn't the only mortal girl for you? And here I felt oh so special."

They sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Betel wondered if he was going to at last get into her pants. It wasn't like she was saving herself or anything, apparently.

Betel was getting pretty damn excited about where they might be going before Lydia stood up abruptly. "You should probably go."

"You aren't gonna tell me how you died in that charming little outfit?" Betel asked, his face full of disappointment as he looked up at her. She had been nice and laughing with him and now she was acting weird again. Like she didn't want to spend time with him.

_Who doesn't like spending time with me?_

"Nah, I'll have to think of something for you to do to earn that story."

And that was that.

_For today anyway._

* * *

Betel visited the next day but Lydia admitted she had not thought about it. The day after she claimed she could not think of a good idea.

For the next two weeks Betel would stop by after work. For the first few days he would have to wait for her to get home from where ever it was she went but eventually she started to be there when he knocked.

Despite how she obviously wanted to be there when he stopped by, she always had two excuses. One for why she didn't know how he could earn the information he wanted and another excuse for why he should leave.

Another week passed and one day she was not there. Confused, Betel knocked louder and harder before he heard the familiar clicking of Lydia's boots behind him.

"Sorry!" She exclaimed, hurrying as quickly as she could. "I was visiting the Maitlands and lost track of the time."

Nodding, Betel watched her and almost felt bad that his stops were cutting her time with the Maitlands short. "Don't worry about it." _Not that I should feel bad. She's the one who keeps baiting me just so I keep coming around for a few minutes every day. At least I know how badly she wants into my pants even if she isn't admitting it._

Despite his callous thoughts, he was about to ask her if there was a better time for him to stop by but his question never made it. Lydia's heel came down at a wrong angle and he watched her ankle twist painfully before she fell down hard on her knees.

Hurrying over to her side, he noticed awkwardly that Lydia was trying her hardest not to cry. Pain was no stranger in the Neitherworld and afterlife sure was a bitch that way.

"These damn boots!" Lydia cried as Betel helped her up.

He was extremely aware that she was holding onto him of her own free will and he had his arm around her waist as he helped her into her place. Now, however, was no time to get excited. Even he knew things might not go so great if he made a suggestion now of all times.

As he helped her lay down onto her couch, Betel asked, "Why do you even wear the damn things, babe? They can't bee comfortable."

"It's not like I want to wear them. You know I can't change out of what I died in."

Betel was trying to remember what you did with a sprained ankle or if that's even what it was called while processing Lydia's answer. "I can change what I wear. You're just not trying hard enough."

_You ice it! I think..._

Searching her empty cabinets for a towel or a bag, Betel found a single dish towel and wrapped it around a large handful of ice. Kneeling down beside her, Betel unzipped her boots and took each one off, noticing her feet didn't smell like he thought they might after being trapped in those things of torture.

"Here, I think this is what you do with this sorta thing." He said before gently laying the ice on her messed up ankle.

"How'd you do that!?" Lydia asked, looking at her bare feet with amazement.

Betel shrugged. "I just did."

For a moment it didn't look like that answer was going to satisfy her but after a moment of consideration, Lydia accepted this and leaned back down and watched the oddity that was Betel taking care of her.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I just want in your pants."

Despite how true Lydia knew this was, she laughed and Betel couldn't help but smile at her.


	3. You Know I'm a Wicked Man

Betel's body was tingling like it had fallen asleep or lost circulation to it or something... whatever it was irritating the hell outta him.

And so was Lydia, the way she kept making the room spin and get all fuzzy and whatnot.

"Just what I needed, Betel. You showing up drunk. It's really just the cherry on top of my shitastic day."

"Well I'm not sober." Betel agreed as he slowly slid down the wall he was hanging desperately onto.

"You lose your way home or something? 'Cause I can't tell you where it is." Lydia explained with her hands on her hips. He was sure she sounded upset but couldn't think why she would be. After all, not just anyone was lucky enough to get a surprise visit from the ghost with the most at three in the morning.

"Nah, jus' thought I would come say hi before I pass out."

Which is what he did next.

When he came to he was not sure where he was. Suddenly Lydia decided to scare the crap out of him by leaning over his aching body with a cheery smile on her face.

"Hellooooo sunshine."

"Gah!" Betel flailed. She sneaked up on him! Ever since he taught her how to change her clothes - because apparently she missed that day in kindergarten - she had been going barefoot or wearing slippers and he had no warning clicking sound of her presence.

All the flailing and thinking was making his head hurt something fierce, however, and Betel groaned.

"You're tryin' to kill me." He whined as he covered his face with his arm.

"I didn't get you drunk and drag your sorry ass to my place. You did that on you're own free will. So... lucky me." Lydia said, the sarcasm clear even through Betel's pounding headache. She had walked away but Betel didn't really care what she was doing. As long as she had that cheeky grin off her face.

"Are you gonna make it all better?" He asked, his voice pleading.

"Oh hell no. I'm on my way out and you're leaving too."

Betel gasped melodramatically at her coldness. Leaning up on his elbows to look at her, he told her sternly, "You're heartless, Lydia! And here I thought we were getting past all this pettiness after I took your clothes off for you!" It took a lot to say all that. He was fairly sure he might pass out again.

"You did not take ALL my clothes off and - " Lydia stopped herself, as if she realized he was just baiting her to get a rise out of her. Glaring at him, she changed the subject. "Was there any particular reason you decided to try and get alcohol poisoning last night?"

"No." Betel said quickly, wanting to shrug nonchalantly but knowing that would be a mistake. "Just sounded fun."

Nodding, Lydia put on her coat. "Awesome. Get up."

"Where are we going?" He asked, not at all moving to do as she ordered.

"I am going out while you are going to mind your own business and crawl to your own home."

Betel narrowed his eyes at Lydia. It was obvious she was not going to back down and start making him feel better and that just seemed ludicrous to him.

_What kind of woman could turn down nurturing my poor soul?_

* * *

Betel wasn't completely over his hangover until the next day, which was the next time he attempted to continue his and Lydia's daily meetings at her place.

As soon as his clock said six, he left to go to her place. Knowing full well she would already be there, Betel decided to test their friendship and just walk in without knocking.

That didn't work as well as he had planned considering she had locked the door.

"Who is it?" she called through the door, sounding a little nervous.

"It's me, brainiac! I can't _believe_ you would lock the door on me!" Betel shouted back at her.

The door swung open and Lydia let him in with a great big roll of her eyes. "I lock the door because of everyone else in the Neitherworld, not to go out of my way and insult you."

Hardly paying attention to this conversation anymore, Betel took a seat on her couch. "What's for dinner?"

"Whatever you make." Lydia told him and then as an afterthought added, "With your own food and money."

"You mean you invite me over here and you don't even have dinner ready?" Betel asked, watching her peel herself an orange. She was running out and he figured he should probably look into making another trip to get her some fresh ones. Maybe. If she was done being a big huge jerk to him, that is.

Not like he was just going to get into the habit of getting her gifts, she could get that thought out of her head right that second!

"I didn't invite you over Betel and besides, you eat gross things." Lydia reminded him.

"Whatever, but you knew I was gonna come over. Not like my daily visits are a surprise." Betel grumbled, feeling a little sour that she had pointed all that out to him. Wasn't his fault he had acquired a taste for certain things. Just the way he was made.

"I guess you're right about that, move please." Lydia said, nudging at his legs that were blocking her path to 'her spot' on the couch. When he obeyed, she plopped down beside him and he noticed she had a piece of orange on her lips. She must have felt it though because pretty soon her cute little tongue darted out to lick her lips. "I have come to expect you to visit me but I'm still surprised every time you show up."

"That's just the reaction people get when they're in the presence of the ghost with the most. Don't worry, you'll get over it!" He slapped her thigh, not too hard but just enough to startle her. When she did jump and looked up at him all shocked-like, he laughed. "See, I'm just keepin' you on your toes. For your own good and whatnot."

Betel stood and went over to Lydia's fridge, ignoring her 'no eating my food, Betel Guese' rule. It was a lame rule and she would soon see the error of her ways on that one. Maybe.

Heating up something he originally thought were worms but on closer inspection proved to be weird looking noodles, Betel drummed his fingers on the counter idly. "How 'bout it Lyds?" He asked as he watched his food spin slowly in her microwave.

"Huh?" Betel jumped and turned around quickly. He had expected her to still be on the couch, not leaning up right to his ear all stealth like and stuff. As he glared down at her she just giggled. "Keeping you on your toes, freakazoid."

"Yeah, you'll have to do better than that little one." Betel shrugged and tried to get back to his usual self, not really appreciating these knew sneaky skills Lydia seemed to have acquired.

"So what were you talking about before you got all fidgety?" Lydia asked just as his food got done heating. Well, it was Lydia's food really but he was going to get it all germified and she didn't like eating food he got his spit on. Something about gross-man cooties.

"You gonna tell the story about how you died tonight?" Betel asked, not bothering to beat around the bush anymore. For the past few weeks they ended up having the same conversation. It was getting old but Betel was getting more and more curious. Especially when it made her get all quiet.

Tonight, however, she seemed ready for the question and didn't even flinch. Shrugging, she stepped away from him as if she thought he was going to tackle her and threaten to hold her down on the floor until she told him. To be fair he only did that once and her knee in his balls put an end to that trick.

"Probably not. But I'll watch a movie with you if you want. Got a new one today." Lydia suggested. It was one of her usual efforts to sidetrack him and despite how badly Betel wanted to know he also liked the way she ended up sitting close to him during the movies. Sure he wasn't allowed to put his arm around her as he found out the first time they watched a movie together, but just sitting close to her felt nice.

Not that he would freely admit these sissified feelings to her.

"Does it have lots of blood and guts in it?"

"Definitely."

"Okay... make us some popcorn."

Lydia stuck her tongue out at him and Betel just smiled back around a mouthful of noodles.

* * *

The next day, Betel had stopped by as usual and noticed right away that Lydia was not being her usual self. She was all distracted and such. Which was just not right.

"So, no movie tonight? Not even if I make the popcorn?" he asked from where he sat on the couch and watched her walk around her apartment.

"Nope."

"You're really a deadbeat, you know that Lyds? And I'm talking about compared to everyone else in the Neitherworld, so that's really saying something." Betel informed her though she didn't seem to be listening to him. She was walking around her apartment as if she was looking for something. Which is when he noticed her take the dress she died in out of the hallway closet and head back to her room.

"Hey... wait a minute..." Betel said, slowly beginning to realize something. "What are you doing with your 'Getting Lucky Tonight' dress? ...Are you taking me out for dinner? And here I thought you were ashamed to be seen in public with me."

"Putting it on, and nope. Not taking you out." She called back from her room. Betel stood up and walked down the short hallway, trying not to get angry at how she was not giving him her full attention.

"Well then all I can say is seduction is overrated. If you want to get lucky with me all you gotta do is say 'Betel, let's have us some sexin'' and then, you know, I'm always one to obey a nice lady like yourself. No need to get dressed up... though I'm sure it can't hurt anything. At all."

That was when Lydia poked her head out the door and he saw the delightful sight that was her bare shoulders as she sent him a look and said, "Betel. Shut up."

_That wasn't how that was supposed to go._ Frowning, Betel leaned against the wall outside Lydia's doorway and decided joking was getting him no where.

"You didn't tell me you had plans. I wouldn't have bothered coming over if you had." He told her.

Lydia was quiet and he wondered if she just didn't want to come out and say whatever she thought about that or if she just hadn't heard him. Well, he wasn't exactly in the mood for repeating himself so he went to the kitchen to look for some foods stuff while she got ready for... things that didn't involve him.

Settling with some questionable looking pizza - the toppings were definitely _not_ crawling, much to his disappointment - Betel took a seat and began ridding Lydia of her leftovers. Hearing the clicking of her boots, he looked over and saw her watching him as she came down the hallway.

She was looking down at him with this funny look on her face that gave Betel the impression she was about to say something real important. "I guess that's why I didn't tell you."

_What the hell?_

When Lydia didn't explain herself right away, Betel repeated his thoughts out loud. Only nicer... "What?"

"I guess I didn't tell you I had plans so that you would still come over for a little bit." Lydia admitted as she determinedly looked anywhere but him.

Betel chewed the pizza slowly as he considered this bit of information. "Why's that?" He asked, sounding completely nonchalant.

Now Lydia did look him in the eye, "I already spilled my guts enough for one night." Then she was walking away. Scrambling to stand up, Betel walked after her quickly. This was definitely not over. Not when he was just getting interested in her weird little vague sentences.

She was opening the door, intending to leave without a goodbye or to tell him to clean his stupid mess up! Reaching out, Betel pushed the door shut on her.

Looking down at her big brown eyes, Betel fully intended on asking her what she was doing if she apparently liked his visits. Why was she leaving after making him think she enjoyed his company like he was some sort of regular person you would hang out with.

Instead, all he said was, "I just got here."

"Yeah well leave when you want to then. I don't care, just as long as you clean up your stupid mess before you finally get outta here." Lydia told him and her sudden anger confused the shit out of Betel, so much that he didn't even bother stopping her when she opened the door again.

"Well fine!" he shouted after the door closed and he finally got his thoughts at least sort of straight. "I'll just stay as long as I want too then! But not because you told me to!"

Stomping over to the table, Betel sat down with a hard thump that kind of hurt his ass and chewed the pizza angrily, which stopped once he chomped down on his bottom lip.

"Son of a... _stupid_!" Betel rubbed his lip and decided it was stupid to sulk in Lydia's house where he was just hurting himself so he left. Without cleaning his mess up too.

* * *

Betel found her at the park. Not on purpose, he was just walking and taking in the dismal scenery of the Neitherworld that looked almost pretty when the moonlight shone down on it.

Seeing her just made him angry again even though he knew he was just angry at her for getting angry at him, but that was perfectly reasonable according to his view on things because she had just flipped for no reason.

Kicking at a stone, he watched her from afar and wondered if she was meeting her date or if she had already blown it.

When Lydia turned her heads toward where he was he dodged behind a nearby tree. She may have started to get good at being stealthy but he had been a professional stalker before her grandma was even thought of! _Take that, you little brat with your stupid fits and your sexy dress._

Narrowing his eyes as he watched her, Betel wondered why she was wearing that dress for some creep when the obviously perfect man for her was so close, watching her around the large trunk of a dead tree.

The punk finally showed up. They talked for a while but Lydia never smiled or appeared to be flirting at all. And when they walked away together, Betel noticed smugly that they did not hold hands or link arms or even stand close to each other. Betel got more physical attention from her when he dropped in for a visit.

Sometimes in the form of a slap or twisting his hand that got a little too friendly but that was so besides the point.

Feeling tons better, Betel walked home with a smirk. He was almost positive Lydia was not getting laid and couldn't wait to rub it in her face the next day. After she yelled at him for leaving a mess in her kitchen. Yep, it was gonna be great.


	4. Truth Be Told I Miss You

**Truth Be Told I'm Lyin'**

Betel was counting the minutes until he would be visiting Lydia and rubbing her nose in the fact that she definitely did _not_ get laid. That's what she got for not seducing him.

Before he could go do that fun stuff, however, he had to get through work which consisted of plenty of paperwork these days. Being freelance was not allowed any more as a part of his probation and he actually had to work for a company. With Juno as his supervisor of all people. It really sucked.

Today, though, not even that she-devil could dampen his mood.

"You're humming." Juno stated when she came into the office Betel shared with three other people he had already managed to drive insane.

Looking over at the intruder, Betel stopped immediatly. He honestly had not noticed and was really embarrassed that Juno had. "How about that." He said with a shrug and went back to his desk work.

"You must be up to something to be in such a good mood... I think you have dirt on someone." Juno was smiling at him mischeivously and he realized she had known him for far too long. It was so hard getting away with anything around her.

"Nah, I was just imagining bombing this place." Betel said before sighing happily at the thought. Turning his attention back to her when she cleared his throat he raise an eyebrow at her. "Whaddya want?"

"To forget what you just said and for you to sign these." Juno took a step forward and slid a thin folder towards him.

"Why? Am I in trouble?" As he opened the folder he had a big ole scowl on his face. So maybe Juno could put a damper on his good mood. _Damn her!_

"Not at the moment." She said as she sat down in one of his absent collegue's office chair. You know, the kind with the wheels. It was really the only reason why Betel was still so perfectly sane and hadn't blown up the place yet, plenty of things could be forgiven if he got a rolly chair. And an office to himself. Which didn't start out like that in the morning but by lunch time, if not sooner, he was pleasantly alone.

Looking up when Juno cleared her throat he realized he had totally forgotten she was there or that he was supposed to be signing things.

"Then what's it for?" He asked as he scanned the sheet. It didn't have a whole lot on it that was very telling and Betel felt right away that it was pretty fishy looking. "I was only joking about the bomb." _Kinda._

Juno made a noise of disbelief, "I'm sure that bomb of yours is some sort of back up plan you have stored should you lose your job, but no this is just a standard paper all workers need to sign that somehow got left out on your first day back. It's simply procedure that basically states you won't steal from the office so you won't get into any trouble."

"...Starting today?"

"Yes, Betel. As soon as you sign the dotted line." The smile she was giving him looked like it was causing her pain. Picking up his pen he began to sign, but something caught his eye that made his hand freeze.

"Hey wait a sec..." Betel squinted down at the words. As vague and sparse the sentences might be he suddenly had the feeling that they had rearranged themselves while he wasn't looking.

_I'm being tricked! By Juno of all people!_ Standing up angrily, Betel threw his pen down on his desk. "What the hell is this?"

Juno looked defeated. "Oh damn."

"Yeah, gonna have to try harder than that to trick _me_!" Betel exclaimed, completely outraged. Of course the silver lining to all this was that maybe his yelling would be heard through out the building and his office buddies would not return the next day... But all of that was beside the point. "What _is_ this?" Betel repeated slowly, pointing at the offending paper on his desk.

"It's a favor for a client of mine." Juno admitted as she stood up and walked slowly towards him.

_No no no, she's not allowed to be calm while I'm standing over here about to blow. Not fair. Throw something at her. Catch her dress on fire._

"Now before you get any more angry just hear me out Betel Geuse." Juno raised her hands defensively as she talked. _That's better, get defensive. Let's negotiate._

"I don't know why I should. Pretty sure I could just take this to the board and see what they have to say about that." Betel threatened.

When Juno laughed, he got a little bit more angry. "God, listen to yourself Geuse. Threatening to turn me in? That's not like you at all."

"Yeah well... I could say the same about you and tricking me into signing papers that aren't - stop shitting around Juno!" He was truly angry now. She had tried to distract him! That wasn't fair at all.

"Alright alright," Juno relaxed her arms and sighed in defeat. "It's obvious you're not a complete idiot."

"Thanks grandma." Betel muttered, not about to return the compliment.

"And that you're maturity level has not gotten any higher." Juno added looking quite annoyed. Rubbing her brow she went to one of the unoccupied desks and sat down, obviously trying to figure out how to break the news to Betel Geuse.

He really did not care how she broke the news to him as long as it was fast-like.

"It's a restraining order, but my client had not wanted you to find out about it so they asked me if there was anyway we could get you to unknowingly sign the papers... I said yes but apparently I was mistaken."

Betel tried to think over anyone he might have pissed off recently. In fact he had been a very pleasant poltergiest if he did say so himself. Well, he had left a mess in Lydia's kitchen, but she wouldn't... Nah... "Why would they not want me to know about a restraining order?"

"Possibly to humiliate you should you try to break it." Juno said with a shrug and Betel knew at once why she was helping this mysterious client out. After all, she wanted him thrown in to jail and never again respected for all the mayhem he was responsible for.

Grabbing the paper, Betel shook it hard to make the words appear how they were meant to be and scanned it for any names.

"Who is Mark McAlli?" Betel asked, noticing Juno did not seem at all worried about him knowing who her client was. This all reeked of foul play. "Are you fucking with me?"

"My client." Juno answered, inspecting her fingernails with a bored expression and without answering his last question or giving him a second glance she left the office, but not before Betel saw that smirk.

_She **is** fucking with me._

* * *

The address of Mark McAlli was right on the sheet and Betel Geuse left work faster than the day he heard about the new whorehouse giving away free lapdances. Oh... that had been such a good day.

Snapping out of it, Betel Geuse did not let himself get distracted from his anger. No one asked for a restraining order on him unless he damn well did something _awesome_. If this man had the guts to piss him off so much he had better watch out for the fit Betel was about to throw.

Finding the man's home was easy enough as he lived in a neighborhood Betel was very familiar with. Pounding on the door until the wood splintered, Betel cursed to himself silently.

_Fucking ameteurs in over your head. Trying to screw with me, I'll show ya what's what. I will. Shitass._

The man who opened the door looked vaguely familiar but Betel Geuse did not much care and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt.

"I didn't sign the papers." Betel growled, not appreciating how calm the dweeb was being. He was not even trembling or looking like he might piss himself.

"I'm glad you came so quickly Betel Geuse."

"Not usually the response I get." Betel muttered, pushing the man away from him. "You're really pissing me off with all this shitting around. What's going on here?"

"Juno owed me a favor, I asked her to get you here whichever way she thought was best." The man explained, probably thinking that was all the information Betel Geuse needed for everything to make sense. "Won't you have a seat?"

Eyeing the chair the other man was gesturing to, Betel Geuse was pretty sure he did not want or need to be there. He was pretty sure he had just been fooled by Juno and this Mark guy. He was pretty sure he was going to blow a fucking fuse from how pissed off he was.

Without saying a word, Betel Geuse left. _I'll give the fuckers a reason to give me a restraining order. Sons of bitches._

* * *

Betel Geuse did not storm home or back to the office, instead he banged furiously on Lydia's door until she opened it with a surprised look on her face.

Getting over the initial shock of finding a furious Betel Geuse on her doorstep, Lydia remembered her own anger. "Thanks for the mess you left last night, it really made my night when I got back home."

"Put a cork in it babe." Betel grumbled, walking past her into the apartment.

Lydia shut the door with a loud bang and Betel figured he should be nicer to her if he wanted her to take him and get drunk. Glancing over at her, he hoped his expression was not very harsh as he tried to think of something to say to make up for his snappy attitude, after all it was not her that tried to trick him into coming over.

"Just kidding." he tried and Lydia rolled her eyes at him but as she dropped her arms to her side and came closer he figured it must have at least sort of worked.

"Trouble at the office sugar pie?" If Betel had not had his eyes on Lydia as she spoke he would have thought someone else was in the room. Someone with a really bad southern accent.

Shuddering, Betel wrinkled his nose at her, "I hate it when you call me by your sick pet names."

Lydia simply shrugged and went to the fridge. When she came over to where Betel was sitting and offered him a drink he was incredibly surprised, as he was used to her trying to kick him out instead of being hospitable.

"What's this?" Betel asked, wondering if it was some sort of poison. _Not that it would work, but still... never hurts to be cautius, a decent killing potion can ruin the taste of a good moonshine._

"Chocolate milk." Lydia said, wiping at her upper lip after taking a long drink.

"Don't you have anything real to drink?"

"It isn't fake, sweetcheeks."

"Alright alright, I'll drink it. Just stop... being sweet..." Betel finished lamely, snatching the drink from her. Lydia shrugged and smiled at him and Betel wondered at this change.

_What does she have to be so damn happy about? I know full well she's_ not_ getting laid._

Glancing at her as she perched on the arm of his chair he frowned. _At least I _think_ she isn't getting laid..._

Recognizing opportunity, Betel leaned back and slid one arm around Lydia's waist. If she was going to throw herself at him then he would be the gentleman and completely take her up on the offer and maybe it meant she had not gotten laid. The guy probably was a dial tone and bored her to death. Or maybe he found out she was complete rubbish at playing charades or something.

Which totally made sense as a turn off to Betel Geuse.

Lydia stood up and walked over to the couch to sit down and Betel tried to take a hint but he kind of felt like he was getting some mixed signals.

"Are you just being a tease?" Betel asked, leaning forward. "I get the feeling you want me to come over and sit next to you but then you'll probably just walk away again." He took a large gulp of his drink, watching her over his glass as she turned red.

"I didn't invite you over here, genius." Lydia bit out at him and he wondered if it was to cover the fact that she was blushing. People were fucking with him and her being a cock tease was just about the last straw.

"I know. I come over, we flirt shamelessly and then you kick me out. Which reminds me, how did that hot date of yours go last night?" Betel asked, wondering if she would lie to him or tell the truth. Or maybe she just wouldn't tell him everything which was really wrong. Didn't she know her business was of course his business? It came with being nearly married to each other.

They were nearly bound for eternity except for they weren't. Did that just mean nothing to her? Didn't she know how much that meant to him? It wasn't just anyone who came that close to tying down the hunk that was Betel Geuse.

_The ingrate!_

Lydia looked at him evenly, the blush having left her cheeks at last. "I had a good time last night."

Sometimes Betel wondered why he even bothered wasting time trying to get into her pants though he was aware that that was not all he wanted. He hoped she knew that was not all he wanted, though he didn't really know what else there was other than getting into her pants.

After months of being her almost friend and joking around like they were the most normal pair in the world, did he expect her to finally give in and then what? He could just leave. What else was there? He had never looked past his short term goals. Lydia was not short term, that was as much as he knew at least.

"But I am going out again tonight so you'll have to leave soon." Lydia continued and stood up. "Actually I want to take a shower so if you could just leave now that would be swell."

He wondered where the mixed tension had come from. Had he done that the night before? No, she had been the one giving him mixed signals, wanting him there and then wanting him gone. Admitting she liked his company. He wouldn't be surprised if she started telling people they were friends. Or at least him... okay he would be surprised if she actually told people they were friends but still... what the hell was she saying?

Betel stood up as well and stretched lazily. "Mind if I join? I'm feeling kind of greasy from too much paper work."

"Yes." Lydia nodded quickly. "I really do mind. Goodbye Betel Geuse."

Frowning, Betel set his glass down on her table and left her apartment without another word. _So she thinks I'm gonna get mad, huh? Well I'll show her... I'm so fucking **angry!**_

Betel didn't even want to follow her again. Instead he dug his hands in his pockets and felt the crumpled paper with that moron's address on it. Maybe that was who he would stalk that night... for entirely different reasons. He wasn't into men if that's what you were thinking. Nope, he was a strictly one sex man.


	5. I Can't Stand The Things That You Do

**When You're Foolin' Around**

Stalking - er... I mean _following_ someone inconspicuously - in a shitty mood always turned Betel Geuse into a sloppy creeper. Follower... whatever. However, Mark McAlli lived in such a busy part of the Neitherworld and he was exceptionally stupid so he did not notice Betel at all. The guy was probably going to turn out to be the most boring stalkee in the history of forever. That was not really improving Betel's mood but hey, he had nothing else to do so why not get extremely angry?

_I could have gone home and built a bomb instead but_ no._ I had to follow Dumbo here. Because I am a glutton for punishment and stalking. Speaking of... where is this little freak off to, huh? Seeing who else he can fuck with? ...The bastard._

Betel did not recognize the building Mark went into and was surprised to discover it was an art gallery. Art by the Dead. How lovely and not morbid even a tiny bit.

Still, Betel always figured only smart people went to these kinds of places. Of course, he never went to them so maybe he was generalizing which was apparently not very fair to the special snowflake people of the world. Whatever.

Hanging back near a gruesome painting of what looked like a syringe full of thread, Betel kept an eye on the weirdo out of the corner of his eye. After a while he was beginning to lose interest and was considering going home to work on that bomb. That is, until he heard the most familiar clicking sound in the world.

His head snapped towards the direction of the noise before he could help it and suddenly he realized that Mark McAlli was the one Lydia had met at the park. The one she had definitely not had the sex with and yet was wearing her same "Lucky Tonight" dress with him.

Had she been behind the fuckery all along?

Nah... it didn't seem like her. Not after she had been practically asking him to never leave her side and whatnot before flipping and being all, "Get out of my apartment, you smell, I'm so hot, blah blah blah."

Well, maybe those weren't her exact words but that's what he was pretending she had said for narrative purposes.

Knowing full well that he would explode if he stayed around much longer, Betel left the building with his fists clenched in his hair and not caring who saw him for the psychopath he was.

He couldn't go home. There were tempty bomb making materials there. If he went to Lyds he would just end up breaking something and he didn't want to show her how angry she had made him. Not without shouting a little at her first.

Where could he go fuck shit up with out worrying about anyone's feelings?

* * *

Mark McAlli had set up wards around his house making breaking in just a little bit more tricky than it should have which only made Betel hate him more. Could never just be a quick and easy in and out job. No, people had to be cautious and dickheads. The pricks.

He didn't even bother using his powers to break things, it was that much more satisfying to use his hands and throw all of the sissy-man's breakables. Seriously, the place needed to be butched up.

"Guess I found the reason Lyds wasn't getting any from the guy." Betel snickered before knifing a flowery throw pillow.

After getting properly winded, Betel stood back and examined his handy work. He should definitely be charging for this kind of art.

He needed to leave now, before Mister McAlli came home and caught him in the act. As much as he wanted to take credit for this, Betel couldn't afford to get into any more trouble just yet. After all, there would be no more Lydia if he was sent to jail.

Which sounded a lot more girly than he had meant it.

He went to Lydia's building and waited in the shadows for her. It dawned on him that he didn't need to be sneaking around with a friend and then he wondered if that's truly what they were. He wondered when he had begun to think of Lydia as more than potential Booty Call.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was letting her know how pissed he was that she would blow him off for a fucker like Mark McAlli and making her pissed in the process.

It seemed to him like he had been waiting for an eternity before he finally heard the familiar clicking of her boots.

"Fancy seeing you here, doll face." Betel said without smiling as he came out of the shadows. Lydia looked at him uneasily but she had not jumped at his sudden presence as he had thought she would.

"What, outside my apartment building? Taking up stalking now, Beej?" Her voice was shaking and he frowned at her. What was her deal? It wasn't cold out.

"Not exactly a recent hobby. Mind if I walk you home since your 'date' seems to be slacking in that area?" He did not wait for a response before sliding an arm around her shoulders. She did not protest and he figured something was really wrong. Did our dear Marky Mark come out on their second date? How horrible for her, she must be in need of some pity sex most definitely.

_No! Remember how angry you are at her, don't pussy out on your temper tantrum now you big jerk!_

Snapping his arm back to his side he did not notice Lydia look at him when he did so or that she stepped a little closer once the contact was gone.

"You gonna come in?" Lydia asked as she unlocked her door.

"Come on, you know me too well to even ask." Betel tried to joke and was at least a tiny bit satisfied with the small laugh that came out of Lydia. Shit, her depressing attitude was really being a downer. How the hell was he supposed to shout at her when she was like this?

She sat down and was unzipping her boots. He noticed she hadn't left off the long fishnet sleeves despite it being a warm night. Although, come to think of it, he had never seen her in anything but long sleeves since she came to Neitherworld no matter what the weather was like.

The weirdo.

"Gonna sit down? You make me uncomfortable when you stand and stare at me." Lydia told him but as soon as he took a seat she was up and heading for her bedroom.

Normally Betel would attempt to follow her and she would laugh and shove him out but he didn't think that would be so great to do that night. Not with what he meant to say to her.

He did stand up and walk to her door, though, and leaned against the frame.

"Hey Lyds." His voice sounded alien to him. Being this serious was unnatural. Why did she have to be all down all of the sudden and make him feel bad for wanting to come over and yell at her? Why did she have to look at him with those nervous, big brown eyes and make him all woogly inside. Like some sort of big sissy who didn't believe in shouting at women.

She must be a witch or something. Casting spells. Maybe... probably not.

"What?" She said, he voice sounding a little muffled as she changed her clothes.

"How do you know Mark McAlli?" He asked and braced himself for the unknown reaction.

There was silence.

Then the door open and Lydia was standing there in jeans and a sweater and staring up at him with a very angry look on her face.

"You _were_ stalking me. I knew it." Lydia opened the door fully and Betel backed away under the power of her glare.

"I was worried about you."

"No," Lydia's voice was rising. "You were being a jealous creeper who has no sense of boundaries!"

His plan was backfiring, he was supposed to be yelling at her. Not the other way around. Betel Geuse raised his hands defensively but couldn't help but respond like a brat.

"And from what I can tell I don't have a damn thing to be jealous about so there goes your conceited theory."

"Woah, you threw in a couple of two syllable words in there, Geuse. How are you feeling? Do you need to sit down?"

"See?" Betel said with a shrug, "You can't deny Mark McAlli likes it in his pooper."

Lydia's look of wrath changed to disgust as she pushed past him, "You are so immature."

She was heading towards the door. At first he thought she was going to kick him out but instead she grabbed her coat and he saw she meant to leave instead. Running for the door, Betel stood in front of it and blocked her way.

"You're losing a lot of kudos points, bud." Lydia glared up at him.

"Look, as happy as I am that you aren't screwing our mutual... whatever the hell he is all I want to know is why you're sending him after me."

"Now who's the conceited one?" Lydia threw her coat down in annoyance and stomped from her front door back to her room. This time Betel did follow her. "Don't you think it's about time you get your head out of your ass and realize the whole of Neitherworld is _not_ lining up to get in your pants?!" She shouted over her shoulder.

She tried to slam her door after her in his face but he pushed it open hard. Flinching at the bang it made, Lydia obviously was not about to let his rising temper stop her from being pissed at him ten times more.

"I just want to know what I did that you had to go to Juno and this Mark guy to get me to disappear?" Betel said evenly. It was only when he finally said the words out that he realized that was what he was truly angry about. It was not the fact that she had lied about dates or that she was blowing him off to go hang out with some creeper. It was the thought that she truly wanted to him gone.

True, he had no idea if she really wanted him gone. He didn't even know if she was one of the people behind the restraining order but in his paranoid mind it made sense. It also hurt, it was a real pain too. It felt like a stomach ache and acid reflex and heart burn and major constipation... God, she must have really put poison in that chocolate milk.

Maybe it was a rash conclusion to come to on his part but it was the only one he could come to and it was driving him crazy.

Lydia looked at him and he could see the shock in her face.

_Shocked that big ole dumb me actually figured it out?_

Sometimes he hated her. However, Betel knew the moment would pass and soon enough he would feel that crazy sort of feeling towards her again that made him want to bug her the heck out of her day and night. Right now, though, he was sick of looking at her.

He thought she had finally been sending him the right vibes. He thought she had been warming up to him. He felt like a fool.

"I... would never want that." Lydia's voice was small as she spoke and Betel's raging thoughts came to a sudden halt.

_Are there a bunch of subtle hints in that sentence I should be picking up on?_

"I don't get it." Betel hated admitting that but it was the truth.

_Since when has honesty been all that important to me?_

When I started caring about what Lydia thought about me, I guess.

"If you weren't helping Mark McAlli annoy me then why the hell were you pretending to be going on a date with him?" Betel asked, unaware of how conceited he was sounding.

"Because I'm not supposed to be here!" Lydia shouted at him, her voice cracking. She covered her mouth with her hands and turned away from him. Betel watched her awkwardly as her shoulders began to shiver.

Suddenly she became still and dropped her hands from her face. He saw her hug herself but she did not turn around to face him. "I wasn't supposed to die."

"Please, babe. If I only had a nickel for every time a deadbeat said that..." Betel muttered, aware of how inappropriate and stupid it was even as he said it.

"Shut up Betel Geuse." Lydia snapped at him, turning to face him. Her eyes were red and watery but her cheeks dry. Betel had the decency to look a little ashamed.

Extending her hands, she held one of his hands in both of hers and could not hide his surprise at the contact. Lydia sat down and wordlessly urged him to join her. He noticed she did not let go. For several minutes she sat there holding his hand and he wondered if she was deciding what to tell him or how to tell him.

Finally, she pulled one hand away and rolled up the sleeve of her right arm. Watching her movements, he wondered if he was supposed to be seeing something but the light in her room had never been turned on and the moonlight was hardly any help. So she pulled his hand towards her and laid it on her arm. He felt the scars immediately.

"What -" He began, though he was really at a loss for words. Fortunately, she interrupted him.

"It was an accident." Her tone suggested she did not want to talk much more about it. "I met Mark through my counseling. Juno thought counseling would be a good idea in my case and you know how it is with Juno... you don't really have a choice..."

"Heh, yeah..." Betel agreed, his voice unusually soft as if he was afraid to break this spell that had come over Lydia. Any sudden movement and she might remember who she was talking to and close up again.

"I talked to him about my condition and he said he had helped a lot of people like me by performing rituals, but not everyone could stand the rituals. I told him I could." Lydia suddenly rolled her sleeve back down her arm and rubbed them both, letting go of Betel's hand. He waited patiently for her to continue. Tonight was a night to remember for his patience alone but then it was Lydia he was with. He had a lot of patience when it came to Lydia... sometimes.

"They are going to give me a second chance, the rituals I mean. At least, they're supposed to if done right. He keeps putting them off, though, and makes me complete all these tests. To test my strength, is what he says. Sometimes I think it's to stall but I don't know. All I know is that I want to trust him." She was fidgeting as she spoke and would not look Betel Geuse in the eye.

"Why him?"

This time she did meet his gaze and he thought she looked sorry, "Because when he comforted me he didn't offer sex as the solution to all my problems."

Betel Geuse blinked at her. _That_ was the reason? It wasn't because he was more interesting than him or smelled better or played the ukulele or something? It was because he didn't want in her pants?

"You can not even tell me that wouldn't be a nice bonus to being comforted by a friend."

Lydia immediately wrinkled her nose, "Ew, with him? No way."

Betel was sure something needed to be suggested there but instead he just smiled at her and stood up. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Lydia asked, as she stood up.

"To see what the hell prissy boy has up his sleeve with the two of us and to get your second chance."

* * *

"It's two in the morning, Lydia." Mark McAlli grumbled, his eyes still half closed. That is, until he turned to get a closer look at her companion and then they widened to the size of those little jelly donuts Betel Geuse was so fond of. For normal food anyway.

"A-and Betel Guese. What a... well isn't that... hello."

"Hi Mark." Lyds sounded a little embarrassed. That would have to be fixed, she should be sounding pissed!

"Wakey wakey." Betel said with a grin.

"Did you, um... well I would invite you in but my place is sort of a mess. Damn neighbor kids I expect. Wards hardly did a damn thing. Think I'm losing my touch."

_That's it. The man mutters and rambles on way too much for my liking. It's only cute when Lyds does it._

Grabbing a hold of the front of Mark's pajama top, Betel pulled the trembling man towards him. "This aint no dweebo palooza, bud."

"Betel," Lydia said in a soft voice to try and calm him probably but it kind of was egging him on. Made him feel like he had to be extra thorough just to set an example in front of his special lady friend.

"Lydia, why are you with this man?" Mark asked, his voice shaking as his toes danced in the air trying to reach the floor.

"He's my friend." She said matter-of-factly.

"And you owe us both something." Betel growled up at him, putting on his best _Grr_ face.

"Alright, alright! Just... put me down and I'll see what I can do." Mark pleaded. Betel laughed and dropped him carelessly, missing how Lydia rolled her eyes.

"You are a god among men, Beej." Her tone suggested sarcasm but Betel decided he would be taking those words out of context later to throw back in her face.

Massaging the back of his neck, Mark allowed them into his very messed up home and Betel was trying hard not to look too smug. "I'd offer a chair but mine seem to be missing in action tonight..."

_I guess you haven't checked your roof yet._ Betel thought with a snicker. Lydia sent him a look and he immediately sobered up and put on his _Grr_ face again. That just made her smirk.

There was no winning with her.

"We didn't come for tea and biscuits," Betel said. _Though food would be nice, I'm starving._ "I want an explanation for your little restraining order stunt you tried to pull and little Lyds here will take your special ritual, the uh second chance one."

Mark's eyes widened and he turned to Lydia, "You told him about that?!"

"Well, yeah." Lydia said with a shrug. "I uh... trust him. Kind of. Well, I trust him enough."

"But you signed the contract!" Mark shouted at her.

"Yeah, but - "

"You can't just back out of a contract! You know the rules. If I had known how stupid you were going to be about this I never would have offered to help you, dammit!"

Betel really didn't like Mark shouting at her and apparently his fists really didn't like it either because before he realized it he had sucker punched the fucker and Mark McAlli was down for the count.

"Woops..." Betel muttered, looking down at the unconscious little man.

"I was thinking of doing the same thing but it probably just would have made him angrier if I did it." Lydia said with a disappointed sigh.

"I'll let you hit him next time doll face."

Shrugging, Lydia came closer to him. "I feel sorta bad though. We didn't get your explanation."

"Or your second chance." Betel added and Lydia nodded. As an after thought, Betel asked her, "Why the hell would you sign a contract?"

"It made sense at the time. Sort of. I hadn't really read it all the way through. And now that I've broken it... well the rules were that the Policy Guards would be called if either of us broke them." Lydia admitted sheepishly.

"If he wakes up that is," Betel said with a devilish smile.

Lydia tilted her head at him gave him a look that clearly said he was being ridiculous. He shrugged. _I thought it was a genius idea._

"Well you can't go home. They'll find you there."

"Probably." Lydia agreed.

Betel looked down at her as she looked down at Mark McAlli sprawled on the floor. His neck was going to be sore when he woke up after laying at that angle. Too bad for him.

Realizing what he had to do, after being the one who sort of kind of got her into this mess with the whole breaking her contract thing, Betel took a deep breath to prepare himself.

"You could come over to my place." He suggested, trying not to sound desperate.

Lydia looked up at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"I just never pictured you staying anywhere else other than my place." Lydia admitted.

"Well, yes... I do indeed have a house." Betel said, giving her a weird look. "I'm definitely not a hobo living on the streets after you kick me out."

"Okay, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better I'll come home with you. But I get the bed and you're sleeping on the couch."

Betel didn't say anything as she linked arms with him. They stepped over Mark McAlli and walked down the street, Betel leading the way to his home. The way there was long and confusing. She would be the first person in more than a century he showed the way to his home. Not everyone should be so lucky but then it wasn't everyone who would call him their friend either.


	6. Well, All's Not Well

**A/N:** Sorry for the lack of updates. I suck. I hope this chapter makes up for it, if not well... um... too bad? I mean, I'm sorry.

**But I'm Told That It'll All Be Quite Nice**

The trip home was passed in a comfortable silence, at least on Betel's part. It was not until he showed her in and watched her wander around like some sort of nosy investigator that he felt a bit uncomfortable with the silence.

_What the hell is she looking for?_

Trying not to look like her forwardness with his home was bothering him, Betel walked passed her to the kitchen.

"Want something to eat while you snoop about, Inspector Gadget?" Betel asked, wondering if he had anything to drink. Grocery shopping was not really his forte.

"Nah, I'm fine." Lyds muttered but when she walked into the kitchen a second later she smiled at him widely. "You've seen Inspector Gadget? That has to mean you have a TV somewhere, right?"

He almost wanted to lie to her just to make that smile last, but he had put his foot through the TV the week before when his favorite Headless Basketball team lost.

"It's in the hospital." He muttered, though it was not really getting repaired. If Lydia walked into his entertainment room she would find the mess still there from where he had been too lazy to even clean up let alone go get a new one.

The smile faded and Lydia was giving him an odd look, one he knew meant she was debating whether she should even ask.

With him, it was usually better not to.

Apparently she decided against asking and to instead investigate his fridge. "Mmm, moldy cheese." He heard her say and was very suspicious that she was being sarcastic.

"Hey, I don't come over to your house and criticize the food you have!" Betel told her as he reached around for a beer. Those he was very good at buying. Lydia straightened up and folded her arms over her chest and the movement caused her to brush against the side of his body.

"You do too, dork."

Betel smirked down at her and had the sudden urge to just reach down and kiss her right in front of all his moldy cheese, but he knew he would have beer breath and so he stepped back.

_Goddamn. So what if I had beer breath? She probably has... chocolate milk breath._

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Betel muttered and walked into the living room, situating the pillows on his couch to face the pile of rubble that had once been his television just right.

He heard the soft scuffing of Lydia's socks against his hardwood floor and looked over his shoulder at her. "I'll uh... show you my room I guess."

Lydia shook her head, "I was only kidding. You're house, you take the bed... besides I'm wide awake now. Couldn't sleep if I wanted. Never been on the run from the law before." Lydia laughed and he noticed she was rambling nervously again. "Besides, that's the bed you take all your Booty Calls to so uh... count me out."

Betel frowned at her in confusion, "I would never show random booty call girls where I live, are you crazy or something?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and Betel was wondering if he should have said something else. Maybe he should tell her how beautiful she looks, especially when she's just wearing her pajama bottoms and a tank top. No, that would get the same reaction. It couldn't hurt? Right? She had been having a really hard day.

"Anyway," Lydia continued. "I kinda wanted to talk a bit about our whole situation involving Doucher McAlli."

"Where?" Betel asked, having been lost in his own thoughts about what he should say to her. At the look on her face, that was obviously not what he wanted to say. "I mean, oh."

Lydia nodded slowly, obviously not about to be fooled by his less than smooth recovery.

She sat down on the couch and pulled him down to join her by the hand. Betel suddenly did not want his beer and he reached across her to set it on the side table and as his face leaned close to hers, he remembered his mother telling him so long ago that reaching was rude. Lydia did not look offended but when he didn't move right away, she got all wide eyed up at him and he gulped.

Sitting back quickly, Betel patted his hands on his lap. "Yes. Doucher talk. Mhmm." He cleared his throat and looked at the pile of used-to-be-television on his floor. He hadn't been expecting company for another century or two.

"Yeah." Lydia said softly, and he watched as her hand ran through her hair and he noticed the light shine off the darkness of it. "You still need your info and I still need my ritual. I think, tomorrow night, we should use your skills of sneakiness and my skills of... somewhat smooth talking to get those two things."

"You're gonna have to be the sneaky one, they're looking for you... Shit, are they looking for me too? I don't care how sexy you are, I'm **not** going back to the Neitherworld Prison for you, babe." Betel told her with a smirk and saw how she blushed. _Oh, that's how I tell her._

"And you'll do the smooth talking?" She asked, her voice suddenly very soft.

"Well, no. I will be... sneaking too."

"Mhmm."

"...Yeah."

Betel looked at his beer can, wondering how the hell they were going to pull this off. Well, he had all of his powers back. If needed, he could just use that bomb he had been meaning to make. Then just make him and Lydia disappear. Unless the copper dudes had their little control guns. Damn, he hated those things.

"I think we should have taken McAlli as a hostage." Lydia said, nimbling on her thumbnail, obviously putting a lot of thought into their plan as well.

Betel looked at Lydia and realized she had just gotten fifty times more hot after saying that. "You should probably marry me."

Lydia looked up at him all wide eyed and froze her chewing of her thumbnail. "Say what?"

It was Betel's turn to get all wide eyed.

"I said... we should probably sleep on it. Goodnight." And then he laid back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling like a moron.

He felt Lydia shift on the couch and soon saw her kneeling out of the corner of his eye but he remained staring up at the ceiling. "Goodnight liar." Then she kissed him on the cheek and left the living room.

A few minutes later he heard her shout down the hallway to ask where the hell his bedroom was. It was the most awkward tour of his house he had ever given.

* * *

The next day, Betel woke up before Lydia and ran to the store. He asked the grocery store lady for help in buying groceries and came back with many many bags full of food. Lydia kind of food at that.

He tried to remember how the lady had told him to make scrambled eggs.

"Break the egg over the pan..." Betel muttered and cursed loudly as the shell exploded all over him. "Fuck this." He left the eggs by the stove and grabbed a piece of bread to munch on while making his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was connected to his bedroom and he had told himself not to look but he had seen white out of the corner of his eye and could not help himself. Lydia was laying on her stomach and snoring softly. There was a small drool spot on his pillow and he was surprised at his lack of wanting to smother her with it. Then he saw the scars all up her forearms. They had been invisible in the night but they were so painfully obvious to him now that he could not look away.

Until Lydia shifted in her sleep. Betel went into the bathroom for fear of looking like a creeper.

He heard her get up and walk towards the bathroom door. "Uh... occupied!"

Betel heard her muffled swearing through the door. "What are you doing!?"

Trying to think quickly, Betel said, "Uh... taking a shower!" _The shower still works in here, right?_

"...No seriously. I gotta clean myself. I have morning grossness. At least let me brush my teeth while you're in the shower!"

"No, too late. I'm already in the shower." He told her, turning the faucets on a mixture of mostly hot and a little cold.

"Come on you brat!"

"Nope! You snoozed and... loosed!" Betel bit his tongue to refrain from inviting her to join him.

He stood under the water and wondered why he was such a brat when he felt guilty for seeming like a creeper. Then he wondered what he was supposed to do in a shower.

He looked at the crusty bar of soap suspiciously. It had worked centuries ago.

He was lathering up his crazy blond hair when he heard the door bang open. Betel opened his eyes wide and peeked behind the curtain.

"What are you doing, perv?" Betel asked just to get a rise out of her but was not expecting the soap to take a sudden turn to the dark side and dive for his eyes. "Argh! It's in my eyes!"

He heard Lydia giggling. "It isn't funny, jerk! What the fuck do I do!?"

"Just tilt your head under the water." She told him and he did not like how nonchalant she was being about the death of his vision.

"I can't **see**!"

"You don't need to see to - Jesus Christ Betel Geuse, it's right there, just tilt your head - no! You stupid son of a - "

He felt a hand pull his hair back and water run into his face. "You planned this!" He tried to say but ended up gurgling on water.

"Stop being a big baby and open up your eyes!"

Betel took a chance and trusted her and let the water wash out his eyes. At last he felt the pain in his eyes begin to fade and tilted his head back down to look at her.

Lydia's pajamas were soaked and he could see the amusement on her face.

As Betel noticed the way her clothes stuck to her body, he said the only thing that came to mind. "I am very naked."

Lydia rolled her eyes and let go, she then attempted to hurry up and get out of the shower but Betel noticed her slip. He reached out for her but only ended up falling on top of her and possibly doing more damage than help.

Betel looked down at her as the water streamed down her face and neck and said the only thing that came to his mind now. "And you are very wet."

Lydia had an odd look on her face and he did not like that he was naked and she was not. If anything were to excite him... like having her beneath him and watching water trail down her chest... well his excitement would be very obvious.

"I have to go get ready, Betel." She told him and he noticed how breathless she sounded. "We gotta big day ahead of us."

Betel did not say anything as he helped her up but he noticed the way she tried to sneakily look at his body and suddenly was not feeling ashamed at all under those greedy eyes.

Betel watched her leave and noticed the way she began to pull off her wet shirt before fully closing the door, but failed to give him a good view.

_Cock tease._


End file.
